How Not to Run a B&B

It was just about 10 years ago that Tara and I stood across from each other and declared our love and undying commitment to one another. We got married over the Christmas holiday because I had a nice break from Schaeffer and Tara (who was nannying at the time) also had a school-schedule break.

For this current Christmas break we went to Sioux Falls, SD to visit Tara's siblings and parents, who all live either in Sioux Falls or Sioux City. They were willing to take all of our kids overnight, which gave us a chance to spend a night at The Victorian, an 1888 Queen Anne in the historic district of Sioux Falls.

We arrive and parked out front, carrying our luggage up to the door together. Tara opened the front doors after knocking quietly and we entered the foyer. Behind us another couple was also climbing the stairs. I held the door for them, and they asked if we had labradoodles -- sorry, they meant golden doodles -- for sale. I said I didn't know, since I was just a guest, but that I'd sure find out for them.

In a moment a large golden doodle greeted us, and I figured they must be right. Then the owner came out from the kitchen. She was surprised to find all these people in her foyer, as usually the front door, she said, is locked. She then instructed us to take off our shoes so that we would not get water on the hardwood floors. We went upstairs with her and were given our choice of rooms and a little advice as to what the pluses were for each one. In all this time, there was no hello or introduction of any kind, no warmth, no friendliness. Just business. I have your $65 and now I have to provide you a room.

She also asked if we were going out again and what time we expected to be back in. Just for the sake of her children, you know. Turns out she had a four year old and an eight year old, both girls. The girls were appropriately polite and the younger had a somewhat-developed conversation with us later. But I digress...

After we had enjoyed our anniversary dinner at the Ground Round, we headed upstairs to the sitting room to read. I read _The History of God_ and Tara read _The Traveling Funeral of Whatever the Chick's Name Was_. Strangely enough, while we were reading, a cat wandered in an official sort of way, looked us over for a moment or two, and then wandered out. Watchcat? Apparently.

When we tired of reading, we went back to our room to... well, never you mind. After we were done, we could still hear the 4-year-old running around on the third floor above us. It is now 11:00 p.m. The head of the bed is good deal lower in elevation than the foot, so we take some of the throw pillows and stuff them under the mattress. This has the effect of raising the head (I don't sleep if my head is lower than my feet) and we are able to go to sleep.

The house itself was hands down the largest, finest, and best preserved Victorian I have ever stayed in. It was beautifully decorated and thoughtfully appointed. However, the human part of the B&B formula in this case was sorely lacking. Business, like everything else, needs to be invigorated by the Spirit of God for the glory of Christ, and no amount of good decorating can substitute for a loving heart.

**Tara adds here that we didn't get breakfast, so, actually it was not so much a bed and breakfast, but moreso a bed. ;)